A Partner in Crime
by ChasetheMorning22
Summary: Graves is having some fun, which is interrupted by an adorable uninvited guest.


A woman's laughter echoed through the expanse of Zydrate Alley, where Graverobber dealt in his trade. Making a woman laugh was always a great sign. Maybe not of an everlasting, Romeo and Juliet style romance, but of more carnal happening, it was definitely certain. Graves had originally been interested in only the sins of the flesh that night. The woman whose arm was linked with his had proven to have wonderful conversation skills, however.

The duo strolled along, in and out of pools of light cast by street lamps every few feet. Through the dim yellow glow, Graves caught his companion's gorgeous green eyes. Celeste grinned playfully at him, her pouty red lips turned up sensuously. Those lips alone were enough to turn a grown man into a blubbering pile of goo. She also had the advantage of a curvy frame, currently wrapped in a red, strapless dress, as well as long, wavy black hair. Celeste reminded him of a classic 1940s actress.

Graves wanted to fall on his knees in gratitude simply casting an eye on her.

"Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect?" Celeste asked. Graverobber redirected his stare from the curve of Celeste's neck to her eyes. They had stopped walking without him realizing it. The dumpster he resided in was to his left at the moment.

"The what?" Graves had read quite a bit in his time, but had never come across such a phrase.

"The butterfly effect," she repeated. "It's the theory that one flap of a butterfly's wings can cause a tsunami." He was intrigued.

"So if I do this," Graves said, while taking Celeste into his arms and pushing her against the nearest alley wall, "what happens?" Celeste chuckled. She looked into his eyes, her own twinkling with a nymph's seductive stare.

"An earthquake in Hawaii?" she suggested. Graves lowered his face to her neck and began dragging his lips over her skin.

"And this?"

"Rain in Arizona."

"Rain, huh?" Graves ran his tongue over the flesh where her neck curved into her shoulder. Celeste sighed, tilting her head back to allow him better access.

"Yes," she replied breathlessly, simultaneously encouraging him, and answering his question. Graves nibbled her skin a bit, his hands resting on her clothed breasts. Celeste moaned as Graves gently massaged them through the thin cloth of her dress. He grinned, slowly working the elastic top down over her chest. Her breasts were amazing. She was at least a C cup, her nipples already perky without much work at all.

Celeste sighed as Graves switched from using his hands to employing his tongue. He was enjoying how her chest began to rise and fall more rapidly with shallow breaths as he took one rosy bud between his lips. Graves swirled his tongue around her nipple, flicking rapidly over her flesh, before moving to take the other into his mouth. Celeste was so short; Graves had to crouch to reach her. He moved a hand to stroke her naked thigh gently, causing Celeste to shudder involuntarily. Agonizingly slow, Graverobber inched his hand up to touch her lips.

"Mmmm," Celeste moaned, egging him on. Graves slipped a finger into her already soaked hole, making Celeste moan more loudly. He chuckled, moving his finger inside of her, teasing. She bucked against him. Graves took the hint and thrust his finger more quickly. Watching Celeste's face contort in ecstasy made him even harder.

Graves went to his knees then, continuing to push his finger in and out of Celeste. He pushed the short length of red skirt up past her thighs. His tongue stroked her inner thighs, tantalizing. Celeste whimpered, hands toying with her nipples now. Graves nudged her thighs now, opening her legs further. Without another moment's hesitation, Graverobber licked at Celeste's slit, from top to bottom, tongue circling her clit with a pointed deliberateness. Sweet liquid dripped on to his tongue. This only made Graverobber want more. He began to lick Celeste with obvious intent.

Suddenly, a bark sounded from behind Graves. He immediately stopped licking his companion. She looked down at him, an even worse pout on her lips. Graves looked over his shoulder and spied the source of the bark. A small mutt with floppy brown ears and sandy brown hair sat across from the duo. Its tail was wagging furiously. Current events did not phase the dog, apparently.

Graves narrowed his eyes slightly at the puppy.

"Get out of here!" he said loudly, still on his knees. He turned again and ran his tongue back along the length of Celeste's soaked slit. When Graves received no response, he glanced up at her. That one should have produced at least an, "Oh, God!"

"It's not gone," she told him through gritted teeth. Graverobber groaned quietly, rising from his knees. He faced the pup, which stood on all four feet now.

"Go on! Get!" he said, shooing the dog away. He walked over and nudged the puppy with his foot a bit. The dog would not budge.

"Y'know, I don't think it's going anywhere," Celeste said, disappointment evident in her tone. When Graves finally shot a glance over his shoulder, he saw she was dressed. He shook his head.

"Let's go somewhere else," he said, trying to avoiding sounding as though he was pleading. It had been too long since his last encounter with a woman, though. He needed this. Graves shot the dog an exasperated expression as Celeste began to shake her head. The moment had apparently passed.

Celeste walked over to him. She smiled weakly at the puppy, patted it on the head, and gave Graverobber a kiss on the cheek.

"Maybe another time, sweet heart. You know where to find me." Graves' face fell, disappointed. He watched as she walked away, red dress clinging to all the right areas. Once she had disappeared around the corner, Graves turned to the puppy.

"Thank you, dog," he grumbled. He strode over to the dumpster he called home and fished a book out of its depths. Graves rubbed the immense hard on under his pants in annoyance. The sensation was currently uncomfortable, penis sitting there on his leg, with the knowledge there would be no lips wrapped around its length tonight. He wished it would immediately deflate, but he had no such luck.

Leave it to him to be slouched against a brick wall alone, with a book in hand, a rock hard erection, and a dog next to him. Such was the strange life of a Zydrate dealer, or at least his anyway.

Graves jumped a bit, feeling something wet and cold nudge his hand. The puppy was nuzzling its nose against him, sniffing with intense interest. He flicked his hand to make the dog leave him alone an expression of annoyance was clear on Graves' features. The puppy, being a puppy, was oblivious to this hint. Instead of backing away, it yipped gleefully at the irritated drug dealer.

Pointedly, Graverobber avoided looking at the dog. It yipped once again, head butting Graves' hand.

"Oh, come on," Graves groaned as the puppy began to whine in high pitched keening. "I don't have time for this."

"Graves?"

"Who wants to know?" Graverobber looked up, pushing himself from the asphalt to stand.

"Just a customer." A man walked toward him, appearing from the shadows. Graverobber kept his hands firmly in his coat pockets. He eyed the man cautiously, as he did all of his customers. Addicts were unpredictable 100 percent of the time.

"Ah, I see," Graves responded congenially. "How many today?" The man was now in Graverobber's view. He had all the tell-tale signs of a scalpel slut – multiple, visible scars, skin stretched unnaturally tight over his bones, like a canvas between two spreader bars.

"Only one." A yip and a whine made Graves' customer glance down. The puppy was at his feet, tail wagging happily. "Oy. When did you get a dog?" Graverobber rolled his eyes, waiting to be paid before producing a little glass vial with bright blue liquid.

"I didn't," he replied dryly, taking the money the man handed him. Graves reached into his coat for vial. Meanwhile, the puppy trotted over and stood on its hind legs, paws on his knees.

"Sure looks like yours," said the man.

"It's not." Graverobber handed over the vial. The man shrugged, and then grimaced. He had obviously had a recent surgery.

"Hm. Well, have a good night." The man shot Graves a small grin before walking away. The puppy continued to stand with its front paws on Graves' knees. Graverobber mistakenly caught the dog's eyes. It had classic puppy dog eyes – large, brown, and very friendly. The puppy's tongue lolled out of the side of its mouth, adding to the already adorable effect.

"Oh, come on. No. No." Graverobber stepped back, walking to the dumpster. He settled down to read again. The puppy walked over and licked his hand, wet tongue dragging across his skin. He grimaced and wiped the spit away. Graves sighed. He would have no peace tonight, it seemed.

"What are you, anyway?" he inquired of the dog. Graverobber glanced underneath the puppy, feeling awkward. He saw nothing dangling. "A girl. Well then. . ." Once more, he sighed, resigned. "I'll call you Rosalind. Would you like that?" The puppy barked, turning her head to the side. She licked his hand after a moment. "Rosalind it is, then. Welcome home, Ros."


End file.
